Darling Ava
by falukorv
Summary: A dream vacation gone horribly awry leaves Ava stuck in the middle of nowhere. She's been spared - for now - but is this a chance for survival or a sign of worse things to come? ((Rated M for nastiness))
1. 1

NOTE: This is basically the second thing I've written in my entire life, so I'd like to point out that I could use all the help I can get, and any and all advice will be appreciated! My writing skills are pretty limited, and while english isn't horribly challenging for me it's still not my first language. (Maybe I'm just using that as an excuse for my poopy writing but haaa :'D) And yes yes yes, I know the whole paradise-vacation-ends-up-going-disgustingly-wrong-and-someone-ends-up-killing-a-guy is a very overplayed and cliché storyline but given the plot of Far Cry 3 I didn't have a lot else to work with. (You'd be surprised with how many excuses I can come up with.) But yes. If you're reading this I love you and I hope this isn't too stale and that my writing isn't too off-putting. I'm working on being able to write longer chapters, and any feedback you could have would be so so so appreciated.

CW: Violence

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"Oh my god, Clifton...this is unreal." Maurita marveled. Her husband came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin in the crook of her neck. The view really was breath-taking.

"What did I tell you?" She turned around to face him, and scoffed playfully. He had the smuggest grin plastered on his face.

"Oookaaaay, I get it, you were right and I was wrong... I'm glad I agreed to this." she turned around again to look out at the ocean. Small islands dotted the horizon, barely visible in the darkness of the night. "It really is unlike anything I've ever seen."

Ava had nearly used up all the memory on her camera on the first two days alone, but she was going to have a kick-ass album to show for it. After all, this was her first vacation, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to capture it somehow. She'd never seen her parents this at peace before.. this really was the perfect vacation.

"Hey, honey?" her father called. "We're heading to bed. Make sure you get some rest soon too, alright?" They disappeared inside the cabin of the ship, leaving her to her own thoughts. She took off her flip-flops, kicking back in the lawn chair and looking up at the infinite expanse of the night sky. It was completely devoid of any clouds, leaving a clear view of the million twinkling lights that graced the atmosphere. Some were dull, merely flickering into existence, while some stood out like diamonds. It was all so big.. Living in a gloomy little hole in the middle of nowhere certainly never gave you many opportunities for sights like this. It almost felt like a privilege getting to witness it. The peaceful silence eventually lulled her into a deep and comfortable sleep.

.oOo.

"WAKE UP!"

What? What was going on? She was up on her feet before even getting to open her eyes properly. Chaos was unfolding around her, mothers pulling their children to safety and people hopping off board. Nothing made sense until her eyes landed on the plume of smoke billowing towards the blue sky from the side of the ship. Ignoring her mom's panicked shouting at her, she began walking towards the rail. They were close enough to shore that she could make out the small army of men standing on the beach, all dressed in red. A hand gripped her arm and began pulling her back towards the middle of the deck, but she couldn't get out of the way before a rippling pain tore through her shoulder. Color drained completely from her vision, and before she knew it she was surrounded by darkness.

.oOo.

The stench of blood and smoke invaded her senses, burning at the inside of her nostrils until it was all she could think of. She had been conscious for approximately 5 minutes, but still had yet to open her eyes for fear of what she would see. She didn't want to find out where she was, who she was with, or what the hell she was in for.

"Soak in the sun on one of Indonesia's many tropical beaches!" the pamphlet had read. It had been a dream vacation up until about 5 hours ago when what was supposed to be a relaxing cruise turned into something else entirely.

Her father had been the one to propose the vacation, sitting the family down for dinner and excitedly showcasing the slip of paper. Ava swooned at idea, but her mother had been quick to protest.

_"You know I can't go. I have mountains of paperwork to take care of, and it... it's just not a good time. Besides, Ava's got college, and Jovan can't just call off school like that.." the middle aged woman had argued. It was typical of her, hard working as she was, with little to no time for a break. One could wonder if she'd ever had a day off in her entire life. _

_"Come on.." He approached her slowly, getting down on one knee and taking his wife's hands into his own. He was corny like that, but perhaps that's one of the reasons her mother fell for him. "If there's anyone that needs this vacation, it's you. You're gonna work yourself to death if you don't take some time off soon." He brushed her cheek with his hand, and she leaned into it, her eyes looking to the floor as she contemplated the idea._

_"I..I suppose it could do this family some good.." His face broke into a huge grin and he kissed her, smiling against her lips._

_"I promise you won't regret this, babe."_

Oh, god...please, let them be with me. Please. Please. Please.

She wanted to believe they were right there, albeit tied up, but with her nonetheless. She didn't dare open her eyes to look.

"Hellooooo? Anyone there?" The voice of a man. She felt someone's fingers jab her forehead rather harshly, catching her off guard and causing her to scrunch up her noise in reaction. The person in front of her laughed, and she opened her eyes.

"Wakey wakey, vanilla shakey! You're a sleepy one, aren't you?" His voice was condescending, like that of a someone who was speaking to a child. Nothing got on her nerves quicker, but she had to bite her tongue or she didn't know what might come out. The man standing in front of her was definitely a character, his hair done into a mohawk with the sides crudely and unevenly shaved. Whoever was handling the razor when he got it done did a shoddy job, as evidenced by all the nicks and marks on his scalp. A nasty looking scar ran from the side of his skull and through his eyebrow. And jesus..someone might as well have drawn on those dark eye-circles with a fucking marker.

In truth, he didn't look much different from any of the other men in the area, but there was a certain aura about him that could make him stand out in a crowd of a hundred. He seemed to be...in good spirits. He was eyeing her with a humoured expression, an obnoxiously cheeky grin painting his features. She wanted to say something, to insult him, to scream at him, anything. But her throat was practically clogged, hindering her from making any sound aside from a small whine. Hot tears were burning in the corners of her eyes, and she was torn between a sense of grief and absolute fury. Who was this man to mock her when she was in so much pain? She scanned his eyes, hoping to find some trace of empathy, but there was...nothing. What scared her more than anything was how genuine his smile was. He was flashing both rows of teeth, and the skin around his eyes was crinkling up in a way that would be charming if he hadn't already given off the impression of being a complete psychopath. A tear trickled down her cheek, washing away the dirt in its path. The man furrowed his eyebrows and pouted with mock-sympathy, reaching out to wipe it with his thumb, but the girl leaned away. He seemed taken aback by the small act of defiance.

"What's happening? Who are you?" Ava croaked, kicking herself inwardly for allowing her voice to crack. So much for attitude.. Like that was gonna get her anywhere besides an early grave, anyway.

"Oh, this is the kennel. And theeese," he gestured with his arm to the terrified captives sitting next to them in silence, "are our friends. We are trying to find them a good home, you see."

"I'll see to it personally that you burn in hell, you motherfucker!" one of the men in the group shouted. His voice was dry and cracked, as if not a drop of water had touched his tongue for days. The mans face was scruffy and swollen and his shirt was caked in dirt and blood. There was obviously some kind of wound below his ribcage, but it was in bad shape. She'd never seen a person look at someone with so much disgust, so much contempt. Vaas put his hands on his knees and slowly stood upright from his crouching position.

"This.. is a bad dog. Completely fucking worthless, in fact. We don't have any use for him." he said matter-of-factly, pointing to the middle-aged man as he looked at Ava. His wife started sobbing inconsolably as Vaas pulled out a revolver and directed it straight at his forehead. Seconds before he was executed he spit on the ground, not once breaking eye-contact with the maniac. The body fell lifelessly to the ground with a thud as blood seeped out from the bullet wound, pooling around his head. "Thank you for your demonstration." he chipped, ignoring the devastated wailing coming from the woman who had just lost her husband.

Ava stared in bewilderment at the scene, not sure if her mind was playing tricks on her. Even as Vaas came back to her, she was unable to tear her eyes from the corpse. What had she gotten herself into..? Nausea hit her like a tidal wave, and it took all of her strength to not throw up on the spot. Once again, his hands cupped her face. At that moment, his hands touching her was the most disgusting thing she could imagine. Every fiber of her being, every instinct, told her to pull away. But it felt too risky. Dealing with this man was like walking through a damn minefield - there was no telling when you were going to strike a nerve, and when you did, you were fucked.

"But you..you're coming with me." he cooed, brushing her hair out of her face. "I already feel very close to you, you know. I think we're going to have a good time together." He flashed her that disgusting, crooked smile as he looked down at the ground, and then back at her again. "You probably won't be worth as much once you've gotten your cherry popped, no?"

Without thinking, she spit in his face. Sirens went off in her head, and her mind reeled back as the crushing realization of what she'd just done hit her full-force. Her breath caught in her throat, and the couple of seconds that followed felt like several hours. The man straightened his back with almost deliberate slowness, a seemingly amused grin spreading across his face as he wiped the saliva off with his forearm. Releasing the air she'd been holding, she believed for a moment that he'd found her retaliation to be entertaining. After a few fleeting moments of silence, he backhanded her with such force that it threw her completely off balance and sent her flying backwards. Pain flooded to the back of her head as it hit the ground. The yelling sounded far away, too far to hear. For a minute, her mind was swimming, and would only let her focus on the aching in her nose, which had more than likely been broken from the blow. Vaas, who was now crouching down next to the girl, had lowered his voice and was saying something to her which currently wasn't registering. He grabbed hold of her chin, and forced it upwards so that her eyes met his. They were so cold. She could only stare.

"Do you fucking _THINK _that I am fucking around? Huh?" Ava parted her lips as if she was about to answer, but nothing came out. His chapped lips were pressed together in a straight line, and he kept repeatedly bouncing his leg - he was losing his patience. "That was not..." he paused, exhaling harshly through his nose and running his hand through his hair in a frustrated motion, clearly unable to keep his cool, "..a rhetorical. fucking. question. ANSWER ME!" he barked, digging his fingers into her face so hard she was pretty sure it was going to bruise. Not getting a response, and presumably mistaking her silence for defiance, he stood up and tossed his rifle over to one of the pirates. For a second, Ava braced herself for death. But the realization soon dawned upon her that she was in for something much worse.

"Take care of these fuckheads." he closed, before grabbing Ava by the head of the hair and dragging her down the cobblestone steps. Finally finding her voice, the girl let out a hoarse cry of protest. Her tied hands frantically pried at the fists that were holding her hair in a vice grip, and her pained screaming kept getting louder. A good few minutes passed before he let her go, violently throwing her down and grabbing her by the shoulders. "SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he repeated, over and over and over again, until the words were ingrained in her mind, until she was too afraid to cry anymore. "I fucking own you. Shut the fuck up." Her scalp thanked her when he instead picked her up and carried her the rest of the distance.

They reached a small concrete building with a heavy metal door. The red on the door was beginning to peel, revealing previous layers of paint. It didn't seem very likely that they cleaned this place up very often. He laid her down, with surprising care, on a folding bed that creaked loudly under the girls weight, and she could finally allow herself to exhale once she heard footsteps leaving the room. Part of her wanted to get up, but the mattress was like heaven in contrast to the hard gravel that had been digging into her knees for the past day. Yawning loudly, she stretched her tired limbs and eventually complied with her bodies incessant begging for her to let it rest.

Maybe when she woke up, she'd be somewhere else..


	2. 2

Oh no, how did this chapter manage to be even shorter than the last one? 8/ Anyway, I'd like to thank you guys SO SO SO much for taking the time to read this, and you've been so nice and it makes me so happy to know there's supportive people out there :'D3 The Far Cry fandom has in my experience been really sweet and wonderful and I've made a lot of friends through it. I apologize for the shortness of this chapter, and I swear I'll try getting at least 3000-5000 words in on the next one.

* * *

The morning sun seeped in through the small window, casting its warmth on the figure that laid on the dirty matress. She was stirred awake by the light getting into her eyes, and laid in the same position for a bit before slowly and reluctantly uncovering her face. The air in the room was stale and humid, and her skin felt sticky with cold sweat. One thing she noted upon waking up was the thin wool blanket that had been draped over her body while she was asleep. It disturbed her to think that someone had been in there when she was in such a vulnerable state, and the blanket didn't grant her even a tiny bit of comfort.

The room she was in was nearly completely empty, save for the uncomfortable mattress she'd been sleeping on, and a metal bucket in the corner. An otherwise hollow cube of concrete. No lamps were installed, not even a candle, which made the dirty window the only source of light. Given enough time, she was pretty sure she could forget her own name in here. The isolation felt almost total, completely void of any stimulation.

But everything hurt. Every damn thing. With careful hands, she shakily reached up to touch her shoulder wound. The contact, though gentle, still caused her to hiss in pain. It occured to her that if she didn't get it fixed, it might get infected. Maybe they'll have to amputate it. She laughed harshly to herself. That's the sort of thing her father would've said when she was little. Young and full of energy, it wasn't uncommon for her to come home with a bruise or two after playing outside.

_"You keep doing that, they'll have to cut your arm off." _he'd say, ever intent on teasing her. Seems silly now, but at least it discouraged her from picking it raw. God..only a day or so had passed, but given the circumstances, she was losing her mind with worry. Anything could be happening to them right now, seeing how they executed people almost as if it were a pastime.

Getting up from her poor excuse for a bed, she stretched her functioning limbs as much as she could. The only window that had been installed was pretty awkwardly placed, not that you'd think this thing was built by an architectural genius. Dust particles danced in the air, made visible by the weak beam of light shining in through moldy glass, covered in dew from early morning.

She must've been pacing around the room for at least 15 minutes before the heavy iron bound door swung open. First, she jumped. Then, she froze.

Him. He seemed to find it amusing that he'd startled her like he did, because the second he saw the look on her face, his own lit up. That shit eating grin he'd bore the day before, the one she wanted so badly to smack right off his smug face. Regaining her posture, she gave him the coldest glare she could muster. Even just that felt like walking on thin ice, but if she died, she wanted him to be aware of how much she hated him. With her soul, with every fiber of her being, she hated him. And perhaps he didn't notice, or maybe he didn't want to, because his smile didn't falter once. Instead, he approached her with extended arms, grabbing her by the wrist and informing her that they were going to get her wound cleaned up.

_Why? Why is he doing this? Why is he being so caring? Why is he not beating me, why haven't I been left to rot out in the jungle somewhere? Why?_

Ava sucked in the air as if there had never been anything sweeter. Never before had the smell of morning dew been so apparent to her. The light, though blinding, was a welcome change from the dim room she'd spent the night in.

He'd only let her walk in front of him. She felt his eyes drilling holes into her backside the entire time, and it made her nervous as hell. On one hand, she didn't blame him for not wanting to go ahead. It would be untrue to suggest she wouldn't have tried making a run for it or perhaps even attempted to knock him out if he'd had his back turned. As they walked, she realized how far he'd carried her yesterday. The little concrete house really was tucked away in the middle of nowhere, and it took a good while before they reached civilization.

She nearly sighed in relief when he turned her over to the doctor. The medic was a very frail woman, with a sunken face and bony hands. Her dirty blonde hair was tied back into a lazy ponytail, and her tired eyes bore memories of every wrongdoing that had been done unto her. Upon seeing her, the doctor's thin lips stretched into a smile that didn't quite seem to reach her grey eyes. The forced expression would almost have looked silly if it didn't make Ava's heart feel so damn heavy. She looked as though she'd come to terms with her reality, but that look of defeat and exhaustion was still ever present in her eyes. For a second, there was a certain sense of mutual understanding between the two.

The middle aged woman quickly put down her clip board and went outside of the medical tent, returning with a glass of cold water. Ava's eyes lit up at the sight, and she stared at it as if it was the most amazing thing imaginable.

"Yes, it's for you." the doctor reassured with a vague smile. Ava's hands were almost shaking when she recieved the glass. It occured to her that she'd never been truly thirsty before. Extreme dehydration had never been a part of her reality, living in a small middleclass town in northern Minnesota with plenty of resources. Pressing the cool glass rim to her cracked lips, she savored all of it, tipping the glass upside down over and over when it was empty just so she could get every drop.

"I'm assuming it's a bullet wound, yes?" she asked with an accent that Ava had yet to figure out.

"Yes."

"Ah.." her look was sympathetic, "And you have not yet dug the bullet out?"

"Correct." she breathed in reply. It seemed clear what was coming, and as much as she never thought she'd find herself having this thought, she really hoped they had anesthesia on this island. The women reached for a pair of glasses resting in her coat pocket, and put them on as she went over to a table to fetch a pair of plyers. The younger woman began taking her shirt off, exposing the wound to the air. Vaas appeared to be eying her appreciatively, his gaze lingering on her body for far longer than she was comfortable with. She visibly tensed up, but his unapologetic staring never stopped.

Taking a closer look at Ava's shoulder, the doctor winced just a bit. It really was bad.

"When did this happen?" she questioned.

"A..a day or so ago, I think." Ava answered sheepishly, almost ashamed that she hadn't had access to medical care sooner even though it had been out of her hands. The doctor scowled at that, her eyes landing on the pirate over in the corner. Vaas looked as nonchalant as ever, waving dismissively at the accusative glare he was getting from the older woman.

"This is really bad. I don't understand how you've made it so long without fainting." Now that she mentioned it, it did strike Ava as a bit of a miracle. The pain had been there the entire time, but adrenaline had managed to carry her through everything.  
A cold rag was used to clean the skin and get rid of all the dried blood before the woman began softly prodding at the area around the lesion with her fingers. Grabbing the metal plyers, she carefully sifted through the wound in search of the bullet. The younger girl grit her teeth as she poked her way through the injured tissue, trying her hardest not to scream. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of unbearably pain, the tweezers clinked lightly against something metal.

"Almost done..I'm sorry there's not much I can offer you in the way of anesthetics. We work with what we have, you understand." Focusing on the area, she dug a little bit deeper, trying to get a grip on the small object with the tips of the tweezers. Ava's jaw clenched so hard she thought her teeth were going to shatter. She buckled under the pain, involuntarily letting out a strangled cry as the bullet was dislodged from her shoulder. Fresh, warm blood bubbled from the wound and trickled down her arm, but the doctor was quick to catch it with the rag.

When she'd gotten it bandaged and put her nearly unsalvagable shirt back on, she made her way towards the tents exit. As she passed Vaas, he put his hand on the small of her back and leaned in.

"I have something to show you."


End file.
